


You Look Good in a Cage

by sourweather



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hannibal is so smitten, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Trauma, i hate them (affectionate), they are SO bad for each other, will is so bitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 05:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourweather/pseuds/sourweather
Summary: "You killed Abigail at my feet. You tried to eat my brain. You sent a killer after my wife and child.""I did," he breathes."And you don't feel sorry.""I try to live without regrets."
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 91





	You Look Good in a Cage

**Author's Note:**

> idk I just really love Will and how broken he is

"We were in the paper today," Hannibal says, scrubbing the remains of their breakfast from a pan. 

"Oh?" 

"Simply a report to say that there is little to report." 

Will nods. "Are they still looking for our bodies?" 

Hannibal flicks a loose strand of hair from his eyes, not wanting to touch his face with wet hands. "Of course, but whether they expected to find our bodies living or dead, the article didn't say." 

Will stares at the counter, his lovely blue eyes reflect nothing, give Hannibal no clues about his thoughts. 

"Every time there's a knock at the door, I'm expecting Jack Crawford to be on the other side." His brows knit together. "My entire life- past, present, future. It's..." He trails off, lost in the twisting pathways that make up his mind. Hannibal wants to walk those pathways, to know them so well that he can make a map of them, and find Will when he gets turned around.  
"It's been altered," Hannibal finishes for him. 

"It's been _ruined_ ," Will corrects. 

Hannibal looks down, redirecting his attention to cleaning. Will can be so rude sometimes, but it often isn't worth the effort to acknowledge it. Truth be told, Hannibal thinks the thorns elevate the beauty of the flower. "Regardless of what happens to you, you will rise and overcome. That is what you are." 

"Unbreakable," Will says. It comes out more like a thought than an answer, something that fell from his perfect mouth by mistake. In an instant, his eyes refocus. He looks up to Hannibal, anger bringing out the hard edges of his usually soft features. "Is that how you see me?" 

"Among other things." 

Will shakes his head. " _You_ broke me. You are still breaking me. You take the largest pieces and crush them until they're dust under your heel." 

"I disagree." 

"How convenient for your conscience," He says. Venom leaks through his voice, bubbling on his tongue. 

"I brought you close to the edge, Will, but I never pushed you further than I felt confident you could handle." 

"You really believe that?" 

"If I had, you wouldn't have survived. And yet here you are, standing before me." 

"I am standing," He says, teeth gritted. "Because you wanted me to stand. There is nothing left of me that hasn't been...warped. By your influence. The man I was before is gone. He's rotting, in the prison you put him in. He's caught in the web you spun for him. His blood is on the cliff you brought him to." 

Hannibal tries to preserve the image of Will in his mind. He's shaking, the rage fully overtaking him. Tears are gathering in his eyes. What will make them fall? "The things I did for you were necessary, to bring forward what I knew was underneath." 

"To me," He said softly. 

"To you?" Hannibal echoed. 

Will pulls a blade from the knife block, sharp and shining. He points it at Hannibal with a trembling hand. Hannibal doesn't step back. 

"The things you did _to me_ , Hannibal, were monstrous." 

Will takes a step closer. 

"You hid the fact that I was sick from me. Framed me, gutted me." 

The tip of the blade is close to Hannibal's stomach. There's a fire in Will's eyes, something hopeless and wretched. Hannibal feels a fresh wave of adoration. 

"You killed Abigail at my feet. You tried to eat my brain. You sent a killer after my wife and child." 

"I did," he breathes. 

"And you don't feel sorry." 

"I try to live without regrets." 

The tears fall, at last. They carve a line along Will's cheek. What Hannibal would give to kiss it away. 

"Regret it. Hannibal. Just this once, regret it." His voice is pleading, begging, heartbroken. 

"Would it make you feel better, if I was sorry?" 

Will sobs, knife still outstretched. He shakes his head. He looks so lost. _Let me lead you back to the path, Will._

"I don't know. I don't know." 

Will is quiet for a moment, looking to the ceiling. Trying to fight more tears. It isn't working. His voice is unsteady when he speaks again. 

"I can't...trust myself anymore, Hannibal. You and I are the same, now. I can't hide anywhere from you, not even in my own head. I can't think without wondering if it's something I thought on my own or something you put in my brain. I don't know if there's a difference anymore. I am completely, entirely, shaped by you." 

"Love." 

He's not sure how the word will affect Will. He half expects to feel the blade finally bite his flesh, to be gutted as Will was. 

Will looks at him, wounded. Profoundly wounded. "Is that what this is?" 

"I have always loved you, Will." 

"No," He whispers. 

"Every day that I wake and see that you are still by my side, I feel privileged to share this life with you." 

"Stop." 

Hannibal doubles down, bears his soul. "I couldn't bear to lose you, Will. I love you with everything I have." 

"Til death do us part." 

"Yours or mine?" 

Will looks Hannibal in the eyes. He smiles. It's the smile of a man who realizes what a fool he's been. 

"They're the same," He says. 

The knife clatters to the floor. Hannibal smiles. 

"I can't leave you, Hannibal. I made my choice that night on the cliff. There is no You and I. Not anymore. All there is now is Us." He looks sickened by his own words, like they feel like death in his mouth. 

"No matter what you've done to me, what you plan on doing, I'm chained to you. I'm helpless, and the...the shadow of myself, the echo of Will Graham, is lamenting. I know you, Hannibal. I know what you are. That loving you is a death sentence." 

"And yet here you are." 

"Here I am." 

Will is no longer shaking. His voice is steady again. Hannibal savors his words, as much a confession as a surrender. _Perfection._

"Lie to me, Hannibal. If that's what you have to do. But I need to cling to the idea that someday, you'll wake up and feel sorry." 

Hannibal's heart aches for him. Another tear falls from Will's captivating eyes, following the trails made by its predecessors. 

"Please." 

Hannibal closes the space between them, wraps his arms around Will. Will sinks into the embrace, curling fists into Hannibal's shirt, clutching him. Hannibal holds him fast, as if he were in danger of falling away. He presses his lips to the scar on Will's forehead. The scar he'd put there. 

"Will," He says, softly. There was no need to speak any louder, the entire world was standing in this room. "Just because I think my actions were justified doesn't mean I enjoyed them. So many times, I wished I didn't need to hurt you. Every step of the way, I begged you not to force my hand." 

Will hides his face, burying it against Hannibal's shoulder. He's angry, he can smell it. Angry at Hannibal. Angry at himself. 

"So many of your wounds are self-inflicted, Will. But there is nothing I would love more than for you to stop fighting." 

"I'm not-" he breathes. "I'm not fighting." 

"You are." 

Will sobs into his chest. It hurts Hannibal, to see his precious Will in such anguish. He cards his fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him. 

"Rest now. Relax, and trust me that I will not betray your love. I have no reason to. But you have been betraying mine since the beginning. Every time I think we're past this, I find you trying to fight me again." He kisses Will again, tender. "You're all that I wanted, Will. If I have you now, then there isn't anything left for me to do." 

"Stop throwing myself at the bars of my cage," Will says bitterly. 

"Show me that I can trust you enough to leave the gate open." 

Will's grip on Hannibal's shirt loosens a fraction. He lets out a shuddering breath. 

"I'll try." 

Hannibal smiles. "Then so will I." 

Will's arms wrap around Hannibal's back, hugging him close. 

"I love you, Will. Cling to that." 

The silence feels like it stretches away into infinity. The two of them stand, holding one another. Hannibal won't make a move to let go until Will does, and Will isn't. 

"I..." 

He runs his fingers through Will's hair again, coaxing him forward. 

"I love you," Will whispers. 

Hannibal pulls himself away, just a fraction. Just enough to give himself space. Will looks up at him, face tear-stained and serene. He looks so beautiful, through the bars.

He kisses Will, long and lingering, and feels sublime. Every action leading up to this was worth it, he feels sure of it now. 

Will reaches up to cup Hannibals jaw, finally relinquishing his last shred of control. Hannibal is happy for Will, for both of them. He knows that they will find peace, like this. Together.


End file.
